


Pillows

by ythmir



Series: 182 series [4]
Category: Midnight Cinderella (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, Romance, some Giles loving after a long day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 21:06:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19472209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ythmir/pseuds/ythmir
Summary: the Princess has not been a good sleeper. Until that one time.





	Pillows

Giles Christophe heard the Princess first before he saw her. A door being closed, shoes kicked off with a grunt, and then finally the soft padding of her socks on the carpeted floor.

“Giles?” She called out to him.

Giles had half a mind to stand up to greet her but before he could move, the Princess had appeared into the study.

“Long day?” He asked.

“Longest.” She groaned, and for a moment, it looked for all the world as if she was ready to let go what little willpower kept her standing, ready to collapse where she stood.

Giles chuckled, patting the spot beside him as an invitation – not that she ever waited for it. She lumbered towards him, fell into place with a soft _oomph_ and laid her head on his lap. A heap of exhaustion, aching wrists, and tired eyes, surely. But at least it seemed that for all her being tired, today was a productive day.

“I’m going to use you as a pillow for a moment, please?” Her voice was already a sigh, barely a whisper.

“Of course.” He answered, his hand already stroking her hair.

They had discovered it by accident.

The Princess had always had trouble sleeping. She would almost always end up waking in the middle of the night, pacing too long and too often, as if she could not wait for the sun to rise and for her to get back to work. With the unexpected death of the King – a full year ahead from what the physicians had predicted – there was simply too many things to resolve, matters to discuss, decisions to be made and papers to be reviewed and signed.

Not that the Princess could not actually sleep. She did, when exhaustion finally gripped her and refused to let go. But these were rare and always meant she was too sick to work; that point where she was indisposed to do nothing but sleep.

On all the other times, she possessed the drive to finish the things she started, _no matter what_. Late nights bleeding into days. The days bleeding into other days. Stacks of towering documents, too much coffee, and too little meals. How could she sleep when too many things needed to be done? Too many things needed governing.

“You need to take a break.” Louis Howard had suggested.

“At least rest your head on a pillow.” Giles had chimed in.

“Power naps are for the weak.” The Princess had replied. “And I can’t sleep when I’m too worked up. You all know that.”

“Should we knock you out unconscious?” Leo Crawford had taken out a thick book.

The Princess stare could have killed him. “Do that and Alyn will find out who’s been hoarding his shortcakes. Now where’s the third draft to that Steiner agreement we’ve been working on.”

Giles had called his own work ethic unhealthy. But the Princess’ was unsustainable.

She would kill herself if she continued. Wysteria needed her alive.

Until that one day, the fifth in a tireless monsoon that had chilled the castle halls. Giles could remember he had been wearing a rather warm parka, and she was still in yesterday’s turtleneck sweater. They were in her study, and had just paused for coffee. They were talking about the weather and how the forecast told said it would not let up for another three days. They needed to double check the dams. They needed to make sure supplies to the provinces would not stop despite a bridge collapsing. And what about the reservoirs?

One moment he had been reciting verbatim the cities that were filling up their reservoirs with rain water. The next, something warm had leaned against him.

The Princess was taking a nap. And it was nothing short of miraculous.

Leo had brought them a comforter. Louis had instructed the servants to cook a warm soup for the Princess to wake up to. Giles did his best not to move, too afraid that even the slightest hiccup would break the spell.

It was well into the evening by the time the Princess had stirred herself awake. Or rather, she had shot up from the sofa like a cat poked in the ribs, wide-eyed, disoriented, and ready to fight.

She had stammered. “Did I just – ?”

“A full three hours.” Giles had replied, a hint of pride in his voice.

She looked at him from head to toe, at the blanket and the still warm soup. “And Leo and Louis – ?”

“Took care of things for us, yes.”

The Princess ran a hand through her hair, slightly disheveled despite its shortness. “What happened to me?”

“Must be the weather.” Giles had opined.

But it had not been the weather. Nor was it the melodious sound of rain pattering against the windows and the castle walls. And it had not definitely been the fact that she worn herself to the bones again. Or the new coffee blend they had tasted. It had been Giles.

And it had always been Giles ever since.

“Take all the time you need to rest.” Giles continued to say, but already the Princess’ breathing was slow and even, feet propped up on the other hand of the sofa, sinking deeper and deeper into much needed rest.

Giles knew this would not be the last time that he was more than willing to offer her that comfort. And in that, Giles found his own.


End file.
